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#the troupe itself gives me so many hints as to what their route could be like – and what their personal growth could look like
masonscig · 1 year
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hope it's okay to slide in here and add. I do think that isn't just that f is a soft ro, a lighter route, or that people don't like friends to lovers; it is also that f has such whimsical aspects to their nature. and I can see maybe that care freeness isn't for everyone, but I think where some of the infantalization comes in isn't just because F is black (though that would make it WORSE without a doubt) but because people see that as childish. And they refuse to see F as anything beyond someone who makes smart ass remarks and gets excited over paper airplanes. (Strange since some of tumblrs' rebrand personality traits is as the gay whimsy website, but that's probably where the antiblackness kicks in) F isn't mature enough in their eyes and doesn't have any real problems (that last part I definitely DO blame Sera for)
AHH YES it's completely ok that u sent me this! i was busy this weekend so i didn't have time to properly respond but YES YOU'RE SO RIGHT
i completely agree with you – it's like all the components are there for the ideal route by people's standards, but because they see f hauville as nothing more than a kid that's tagging along ub, they're never going to give f a real shot. it's bizarre, because it's like normally, that's a lot of people's ideal routes, but since like you said, they don't think f is mature nor do they have problems (which is sooo false) they just. overlook them completely (this paragraph seems like i've said the same thing twice but i'm going to keep it anyways LMAO)
it's crazy that some see a character genuinely trying to make the best of their situation (being traumatically ripped from their home realm) by maintaining an overly positive attitude as "childish". ugh. makes me feel icky thinking about the blatantly shitty treatment of f when they have as much depth as the other three ro's
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The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 19 - 20
The last few chapters utterly spoiled me with good content in form of the witches.But everything good, sadly, cannot last forever.
Elide Lochan kept quiet during the two days she and Lorcan trekked through the eastern edges of Oakwald, heading for the plains beyond.
*groans* Elide, I love you, but your POVs are just not fun to read, I’m sorry. Maybe because my instincts are telling me we might get a Lorcan POV too, and I’m starting to be irked by this guy.
But [Elide] still slept soundly these last two nights—thanks to the belly full of meat courtesy of Lorcan’s hunting. He’d scrounged up two rabbits, and when she’d devoured all of hers in minutes, he’d given her half of what was left of his. She hadn’t bothered being polite by refusing.
Girl, you were kept prisoner for how long? Don’t feel sorry for eating. Besides, Lorcan is an immortal warrior, yeah? So he probably doesn’t need to eat as much as you do during a day.
So they make it to a city, and Elide, being one of the few smart characters in this book, realizes Lorcan needs a disguise.
Elide surveyed herself, and set down her pack. First, she removed the leather jacket, even though it left her feeling like a layer of skin had peeled off, then she rolled up the sleeves of her white shirt. But without the tight leather, the full size of her breasts could be seen—marking her as a woman and not a slip of a girl that people assumed she was.
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I say once again; full grown women are not the only ones with huge breasts. You  can be a teenager with big breasts. Hell, I’m a young adult woman and I don’t have large boobs at all! Your breasts size have very little to do with your age once you hit puberty.
[Lorcan’s] eyes traveled from [Elide’s] feet to her head, and he frowned again. “Bigger tits won’t prove or hide anything.”
See, even Lorcan understands this. Also really, Lorcan says ‘tits’? 
They roll up to town and there are soldiers checking wagons and inspecting people, searching for her. Since Elide’s limp gives herself away, Lorcan fixes it temporarily with magic.
[Lorcan] opened the door, and by the time [Elide’s] eyes adjusted to the glow of the wrought-iron chandeliers, Lorcan’s face had changed. His eyes might never be warm, but a bland smile was on his face, his shoulders relaxed—as if he were slightly inconvenienced by the wait but eager for a good meal. He almost looked human.
I know I said I despised Lorcan, but at least he’s willing to listen to Elide and make an effort to disguise himself. Maybe these chapters won’t be too painful to read.
“Brother,” Lorcan murmured so no one else could hear. “I am your brother.” “You are my husband,”  [Elide] said with equal quiet. “We have been married three months. Follow my lead.”
I see your “pretending to date/be married’ fanfic trope, SJM. I see you.
[Elide] said simply, “Men will not fear the threat of a brother. I would still be unclaimed—still be open for … invitations. I have seen how little respect men have for anything they think they are entitled to. So you are my husband,” she hissed, “until I say otherwise.”
Jesus, way to throw men under the bus. Why is it that all unnamed and minor male characters in SJM’s books are addicted to rape and sexual harassing women? Like I know it happens in this time period ( and today) but Christ, all of these men are just frothing at the mouth to claim a woman or some shit.
Elide listens to the next table, which turns out to be a traveling carnival group.
Elide lifted her eyes to Lorcan’s—he gave a nod. She took a sip of her stew, steeling herself, thinking of Asterin Blackbeak. Charming, confident, fearless. She’d always had her head at a jaunty angle, a looseness to her limbs, a hint of a smile on her lips. Elide took a breath, letting those memories sink into muscle and flesh and bone.
Awww, I love little tidbits like this, showing how much of an impact Manon and her Thirteen had on Elide. Girls supporting girls is so important and precious.
Elide manages to convince the carnival group that she and Lorcan are traveling performers, and they are allowed in. I’m starting to warm up to Elide again - she uses her intelligence, he speaking skills, and her wits to solve her problems. It’s refreshing compared to the other characters always using magic and strength.
His wife. Gods above.
Unghhh, Lorcan’s POV.
Lorcan ignored the hand the bearded man offered and jumped into the back of the wagon, reminding himself to sit close to Marion, to put an arm around her bony shoulders and look relieved and happy to have a troupe again.
But again, he’s making an effort at least. That’s more than Aelin would do; she’d just threaten to burn everyone in her path until she gets her way.
Marion rolled her eyes, patting Lorcan’s knee. He nearly cringed at every touch. Even with his lovers, outside the bed itself, he didn’t like casual, careless contact. Some found that intolerable. Some thought they could break him into a decent male who just wanted a home and a good female to work beside him. Not one of them had succeeded.
Christ Lorcan, she’s just patting your knee. Right after I gave your kudos for putting effort into your disguise and everything.
“I want to see life—see the world,” Marion said, her voice softening. “I want to see everything.” Lorcan wondered if Marion would even get to do that if he failed in his task, if the Wyrdkey he carried wound up in the wrong hands.
Like I said, gonna be a doozy when Lorcan finds out his Wyrdkey is a fake.
Does it sound like I’m stretching for things to say? Because I am. Honestly this subplot is just.... really really boring. It’s just Lorcan being grumpy and brooding and while Elide is a nice and interesting character, SJM just isn’t doing anything cool with her aside from the occasional little moment here and there.
“But Aelin Galathynius,” Nik mused. Marion’s hand went limp on Lorcan’s knee. “Who knows what she will do. She has not called for aid, has not asked soldiers to come to her. Yet she held Rifthold in her grip—killed the king, destroyed his castle. But gave the city back.” The bench beneath them groaned as Marion leaned forward. “What do you know of Aelin?”
NO NO I’M SORRY I TAKE IT BACK THIS SUBPLOT IS INTERESTING PLEASE NO AELIN GUSHING PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE
“Rumors, here and there,” Nik said, shrugging. “They say she’s beautiful as sin—and colder than ice. They say she’s a tyrant, a coward, a whore. They say she’s gods-blessed—or gods-damned. Who knows? Nineteen seems awfully young to have such burdens … Rumor claims her court is strong, though. A shape-shifter guards her back—and two warrior-princes flank her on either side.”
Aedion is the one who came up with the guarding her sides/back thing. How the fuck do other people know about it? Also unghhh everyone in this book just has to be royalty don’t they.
Some soldiers stop them and order them all out, presumable looking for Elide. Then they fuck off and Lorcan angsts about happy endings and how Elide’s goal is foolish.
There was no such thing as a better world—no such thing as a happy end. Because there were no endings.
Don’t be like that Lorcan, you’re a hot attractive magic dude in a shitty YA book. Of course you’re gonna get a happy ending. Next chapter!
Rowan Whitethorn just needed a place to rest. He didn’t give a shit if it was a bed or a pile of hay or even beneath a horse in a stable. As long as it was quiet and there was a roof to keep out the driving veils of rain, he didn’t care.
Dorian and Rowan have made it to Skull’s Bay.
But [Rowan] and the young king had chosen another route, during the many hours he’d made good on his promise to teach Dorian about magic. They’d worked for only minutes at a time—since it’d be no use if the king wrecked their little boat should his power slip its leash. So it had been exercises with ice: summoning a ball of frost to his palm, letting it melt. Over and over.
Aww, this is nice. I kinda wish we could’ve actually seen this, but it’s a nice mental image nonetheless.
But as if the gods themselves wanted to test him, a gust of rain-cooled wind sprayed into their faces, and some sense pricked in its wake. A shift in the air. Like a great pocket of power gathered close, beckoning. The knife at his side was instantly in his soaked hand as he searched the rooftops, revealing only plumes of rain. Rowan quieted his mind, listening to the city and storm around them.
So Rowan’s magic picks up some shady shit. What, pray tell, could be after them in Skull’s Bay?
Rowan sheathed his knife. “Then stay close and keep alert.”
Oh. Never mind, then. We transition then into Dorian’s POV.
Aelin had once confirmed that Rolfe was indeed soulless and indeed tattooed. As for the map … She’d shrugged, saying Rolfe claimed it stopped moving when magic fell. Dorian wondered if that map now indicated that he and Rowan walked through his city—if it marked them as enemies.
Seriously, Rolfe is so cool. A pirate damned without a soul with a magic map on his hands? Gimmie that novel! I wish SJM actually did something with the cool concepts she makes.
Two guards stood halfway down the block—guards not for any uniform, but for the fact that they were standing in this storm, hands on their swords. Rowan angled his head in a way that told Dorian the prince was likely contemplating whether it was worth it to chuck the men into the roiling harbor.
Rowan: How dare Darrow imply that my gf and I can’t be proper leaders? We are extremely talented in diplomacy!
Also Rowan: Hmm I’m gonna toss the guards of the guy I arranged a meeting with into the ocean lol.
Storm-Chaser. Lady Ann. Tiger-Star. The sterns of ships. Every table was made from them. They hadn’t been taken from wrecks. No, this was a trophy room—a reminder to those who met with the Pirate Lord of how, exactly, he had gained his crown.
Seriously why are SJM’s side characters so awesome and bad ass and intriguing but her main cast is so boring and lacks any development? Cut out Aelin and her court and give me a novel about Darrow, the witches, and Rolfe’s pirate army. I’d pay good money for that fic.
A door behind the bar opened, and a slim, brown-haired young woman stepped out. Her apron marked her as the barmaid, but her shoulders were back, head high—gray eyes sharp and clear as she scanned them and remained unimpressed. “He was wondering when you two would come snooping,” she said, her accent rich and thick—like Aedion’s.
Aye lmaooo you call them out girl.
Dorian nodded, something in his chest easing. “And you—your magic is … better?” That hard face yielded nothing. “I’ll manage.” Not an answer.
Lmao don’t worry Dorian, as soon as Rowan needs his magic he’ll be able to shoot frost balls out of his ass. Because what is a magic system?
Dorian didn’t know what he expected from the Lord of Pirates. But a dark-haired man, a day past thirty if that, lounging on a red velvet chaise before the rain-splattered curve of windows was not it.
Damn, SJM, you gonna leave me hanging just as soon as we get to an awesomely built up character? Apparently so.
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